


"Dead or Alive"

by HeadcaseCraziness



Series: Eternally Alliance'd, Now and Forever [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Emotional pain, Introspection, M/M, The bridges are burnt, Theron-centric, Thinking on a past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 03:45:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13332813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadcaseCraziness/pseuds/HeadcaseCraziness
Summary: Theron fights with his choices made, he misses his lover... But in the grand scheme of things there is nothing he can do.“Wanted dead or alive...”The Commander didn’t care anymore. To him Theron was a traitor and needed to die. He was no longer a lover, those times had long past by.Partner piece to Chasing Copero, which is the Alliance Commander's point of view.





	"Dead or Alive"

“Wanted dead or Alive...”

 

The broadcast hurt Theron more than he wanted to admit.

“I’m sorry, Commander.” He muttered to no one but himself, maybe it was in some vain hope they would somehow hear it. Although, it was much more likely it was to help justify himself, to apologise as he may never truly get to say those words in person.

A traitor... A terrorist... A bounty...

That’s all he was to them now.

Something that needed to be destroyed, killed or imprisoned, so he could rot in his despair.

The way the Commander addressed the Galaxy... the hatred slipping through the cracks, his icy, detached tone of voice fighting not to scream in anguish, the usually schooled features twitching as they struggled to stay calm... the former Spymaster’s mask was crumbling. Theron had rarely ever seen this side to him, this kind of hate reserved only for the likes of Vaylin and the Emperor.

Not for him. Never for him.

Not for a lover whom once kept their bed warm in the cold, dead of night, or a friend there in their most vulnerable and trying times. He’d been there through it all and back again, seen the once small and hopeful Alliance flourish before it became something twisted by the darkness that consumed his lover... former lover now.

Secretly, despite his most obvious flaws, they had been everything to Theron, and he did this to keep them safe in a way. But more to keep the Galaxy safe. He had to focus on the bigger picture.

Yet, as he thought back to their conversation on Umbara, as he saw the pain and betrayal first hand in the Commander’s yellowy eyes, he knew it was dead. There was no coming back from this. Even if it was done with good intentions.

Some actions burned bridges that can never be rebuilt. Some words uttered in the darkest of times can never be taken back, even through pleading, or great acts of faith. Theron could save the Galaxy and he would not be forgiven. He knew that.

The trust was gone. Trust that had been so cautiously given. A Spy’s true trust was hard enough to come by in the first place. As one Spy to another, he knew there was no coming back.

* * *

  

He’d seen him, on Copero, so briefly. With that same broken guise, face warped into ugly shapes from hatred and fury. Golden-seeming eyes brimming with elated vengeance. No longing or love... like Theron wanted him to feel. No secretly harboured devotion such as he felt. Just hate dripping from every pore.

A blaster bolt that barely missed his head dragged him back, from the emotions that overwhelmed his mind, and he warned Valss that their encounter would end in his death. The Commander, however Force-blind, could kill Legends... had killed Godlike beings. A strong Force-User like Valss didn’t stand a chance.

But the Chiss had brushed him off as he jumped into the fray. “Victory isn’t my fate, Theron... It’s yours.”

To Valss that had meant something. A hope, for the mission, that his death would mean something in the great scheme of things to come. To Theron, he was sceptical. What victory had he seen, one where he is the reason for millions of lives lost... the sole cause of his lover’s death...?

A scene flashed in his mind: the yellow light dying in his agony-filled eyes, the palest of Imperial skin, blood covered his so delicate features and lips stained with red twisted into a sick grin. “Traitor... Betrayer... I hate you!” He growled, but it became a gurgle as he coughed up blood. “I... hate... you...” He whispered once more, before his head fell to one side, his eyes staring blankly into nothingness. Theron fought back a sob as he cradled his lover... This would, could, be his fate.

Or the victory where he dismantled the Order, the Galaxy is saved?

A different scene came with this thought... The Alliance Commander, he looked down upon him, contemplating what to do. His daft fingers drifted over old scars, a burn that covered his eye from one of his many past lives. It was a tell he had never been able to hide, a small look into his psyche... his emotions. He was anxious... Confused... Angry... But his features soon turned dark and dangerous, with a snarl he pulled out his blaster and in one swift motion fired within a single second. He’d seen the action repeatedly. A quick execution. Aric, a former ally... Koth, a former friend... Kaliyo, a former lover for Kriff’s sake... All former, all dead. The Commander didn’t take disorder or betrayal lightly.

He wouldn’t take his betrayal any better, of course. Theron gaped, lips moving and no words forming, he looked down at the hole in his chest, the phantom pain becoming unbearable. He blinked, the images vanishing before his very eyes.

There was a blue blur fading from view as Valss fell into the battlefield, the shuttle door slide closed.

Sealing the Chiss to his fate.

Sealing him to his own just the same.

* * *

 

Sleepless nights were commonplace for Theron, always had and always will be. There were only few times when he slept soundly. He’d slept like the dead, un-waking. No nightmares, no pain, no work occupying his mind, no need to sleep with one eye open while in the field.

He enjoyed those nights and those mornings afterwards, where he would awake refreshed, happy and wrap himself around a close warm body. He’d wake them up them with light kisses, soft touches and murmured honeyed words. When their hazy eyes opened, they would almost glow so relaxed, so contented in that second, and a beaming smile would greet him. He savoured those perfect moments, so few and far between.

Tonight, there was no warm spot on the bed where that certain someone should be, he heard no gentle breathing, felt no touch of sleepy skin stroke against his own. He doubted he would ever get those moments again. Not with that certain someone. Not with him... But he could still crave those fine and gentle moments all the same.

* * *

 

Valss didn’t return. He had warned him, and he wanted to feel some sympathy for the Chiss. He was reported dead by agents on Copero. Killed by the Commander in the cruellest and most efficient of fashions. The final blow: a knife to the heart.

To Theron that seemed like a message, the man was heartbroken. He already knew this, but as he read of the details of Valss death further, that detail had struck him to his core. His lover, he was hurting so, so much more than Theron had ever imaged.

He tried to focus himself on his work, his mission, keep up his mask of lies and betrayal. His faux hatred for him, the tyrant that was the Eternal Alliance Commander. Although, it was all too much, a hushed sob bubbled in his throat, tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He glanced around even in this moment of weakness, making sure no one was there, could catch him unaware, as he became the lovesick boy in need of his partner’s affection. He wanted to hold him close, tell him he was so very sorry, that there was reason for his cause.

But he couldn’t. He doubted he would ever be given the catch to explain his actions... He had chosen this path, burnt every sentiment that his lover had felt, had given him.

The Commander was heartbroken, and Theron was the cause. The Commander was heartbroken, and he’d kill Theron for it all.

* * *

 

“Wanted dead or alive...”

Those words ran through his mind, they still hurt the same as when he had first heard them...

The Commander didn’t care anymore. To him Theron was a traitor and needed to die. He was no longer a lover, those times had long past by.


End file.
